


Fight Club

by ThiccManTheSavior



Category: Fight Club (1999), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is Marla, Angst, Consumerism, Depression, Fights, Internalized Homophobia, Lance is Neo, Langst, M/M, Masculinity, My First Work in This Fandom, Philosophy, Sexism, Slow Burn, The Matrix References, The Matrix: Revolutions, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Violence, descriptive writing, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-08 23:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14704725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThiccManTheSavior/pseuds/ThiccManTheSavior
Summary: After many failed hopes, broken dreams and bad dates, Lance realizes that he's simply moving in spirals without achieving anything extraordinary in life. He knows something is hurting him deep down inside but he can't figure out what. Unfortunate events occur and he becomes emotionally attached to his co-worker Keith. He learns that Keith is no ordinary pretty boy, and that he's kept a deep secret that could cost him his job.Lance's POV





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Tw for sexist language, homophobia, depression, and violence **  
> **  
> Understand this is supposed to written in Tyler Durden's x Lance's POV in a 1990 - 2004 setting, a relflection.**

Since his eyes were closed, a faint red glow was all he could see through his eyelids, light was ahead of him. But Lance had no intention of opening his eyes in order to conceal the mystery of what he was surrounded by.  
  
His body was as light as ash. The delicate breeze that fondled him carried the scent of vanilla and dried flowers. The temperature was warm like his mother's hug, the sunlight  touched his bare tanned skin, and the breeze just slightly cooler. He took a deep breath and all the restlessness in his muscles withered away as he exhaled.

Finally opened his eyes.  
  
Lance was washed away by the sight. Above the clouds in his tank top and blue shorts. The sun being minutes away from the horizon. The sky was pink and red while the thick clouds under were purple with a bright shade of golden its hue ambitiously illuminating each crevice. And though time continued, the emotions that flowed stilled his soul.

He heard the music of the angel's harp echoing, somewhere far away yet all around him.  
  
  
Lance was unable to move much except for his limbs. There was nothing around him that could help him propel forward to get a closer look at the sun. He didn't even know where he was, there seemed to be nothing around him except for a cloudy floor, the sky and the glowing orb. The place was devoid of gravity.  
  
_This must be a dream_ , he smiled.

He tasted blood. The smile dropped. A hard piece of something rolled in his mouth. He brought it in between his front teeth and took it by his hands.  
  
A tooth had fallen out. The comfort didn't prevail now.  
  
_Huh? My teeth were completely fine..._  
  
Another hard, tiny object lolled on his tongue. He spat it out.  
  
_Another one?_  
  
Lance's teeth were falling out.  
  
The atmosphere cracked and the sun hid below the horizon immediately. Patches formed on the cloudy floor, revealing the troposphere.

Lance glanced below and shortly understood that this wasn't good.

The once composed heavens was now morphing into a dark, terrifying nightmare. The feeling of being light as ash dissolved and now his body began to get pulled by gravity. Lance yelled. No one could hear him, not even himself. All he could hear was wind blasting on both sides of his ears. As he tumbled in the air the pressure grew immensely and stomped on his chest, the wind dashed into his face causing his skin to be tugged in the opposite direction.  
  
He was falling straight to his death, his gut wrenched and his heart pounded, Lance looked around instinctively, his arms stretching out to grab anything, he scratched the air while he was too scared to breathe, feeling only brick-hard wind collapse around him, choking on his fear.  
  
Then, he grabbed something.  
  
He didn't know what it was but he kept tugging. He pulled it, it came with him plummeting to his doom. He shut his eyes tightly.

* * *

  
  
Lance woke up in his bed, clenching the bed sheet like a scared cat while his heart was hammering out of his chest. Each beat shook him like an earthquake. _It felt so real._ He sat up on his bed and his back was moist, even his forehead had shed cold sweat. He had a thin blue curtain covering his window so the light that passed through his room in the early morning will always look blue, it gave enough light for him to make out his sweaty figure imprinted on his bed sheet and pillow.  
  
The time was **4:40** , a few minutes away from the alarm.  
  
_Coffee. Turns on the TV to not feel lonely. Fixes breakfast,_ eats the same omlette du fromage. He did this so often that he could do it with his eyes closed.

The televison sang a nostalgic tune, "BOB THE BUILDER, **CAN WE FIX IT**?", Lance over-cooked his omlette this time. "no. we can't. it's fucked" he murmurs to himself. He's already off to a great start.

His heart was hung by a spider web, too fragile to hold something that heavy. Something would soon cause the thread to give up on him.

  
_Brushed his teeth_ , remembering his nightmare, he inspected his mouth in the mirror to make sure all his teeth were intact. Everything was normal.  
  
_Shower. Dress. Go to work._  
  
Nothing ever changes. Took the public railway and saw familiar places.

 

 

 

 

> **He feels something is wrong, he lives as a hacker under the alias 'Neo', puzzled with his cryptic encounters of "the matrix". A woman, Trinity, contacts him, saying that a man named Morpheus can explain this meaningless world; Neo meets Morpheus, who offers him a choice, a red pill and a blue pill. If he swallowed the red pill his reality would disintegrate and Neo awakens. The blue pill will cause him to strike a peace treaty with the machines, submitting to his mundane life.**

  
  
  Lance had recently broken up with his girlfriend Jenny Shaybon. It wasn't _her_ that he wanted, rather it was desire to be admired, and seen as dependable.

It's alright, he was used to this, you can't break a heart that's already damaged, _**maybe that's why we go numb.**_

He had filled his home with furniture and useless junk, _I am free because choose what I want to spend my money on_. 

Lance got off the station.

_Am I really free?_

_Is something wrong with me?_ he asked, entering his building.

By the age of 21 he's already stocked a valuable amount of porno mags, it told the tale of picking up "younger beautiful women" as shown on the cover, and most importantly- female anatomy.

It did manage to up his game, but that **impaired** him from having a long term relationship.

* * *

 

The cold metal doors of his workplace elevator slid open, he left a bag of his problems inside the same elevator and would reclaim it before he left work.

Like a corpse the murderer tried to hide, but despite it being buried deep under the soil, the police still caught it's leash. _The agents caught **Neo**_.

A wide and bright corridor with large windows that gave a fascinating veiw of the city which peaked his interest in architecture. Lance was extremly cheerful. His brain flooded with happiness inducing chemicals, smile so dazzling and warm it could melt an ice cream.

  
"Hey Lance!", said a colleague of his, carrying some papers.  
  
"Yoooo Hunk! Buddy!" he slapped him on his shoulder. If it wasn't for Hunk, Lance could have never found his way into this company.  
  
The corridor had two ends, one of which contained his department which had 40 something employees. As he got closer he heard the ringing of telephones, papers being moved, occasional  yapping, quarelling over the call sessions,  
"stop using the land-line you cunt you don't own this" followed by "umm my dad owns this building", laughing, and heels hurriedly walking from team to team. Despite only working there for a year, and many of the workers were replaced overtime, Lance still managed to form a deep connection with nearly half of them.

No matter how many times one would enter the office, it would always feel fresh and radiant due to the department bonding.  
He entered the department and the first action was a wink and point finger guns at the nearest girl. This would go on till he reached his cubicle.  
  
All eyes would be on him. Boisterous but cheery as fuck and made quite a scene, the crew got used to his noise eventually. He would have been promoted to the group leader if it wasn't for his tendency to be lighthearted at the wrong time. This guy spent his break hours pitching pick-up lines for the women on his floor.

  
Then there was Keith, his polar opposite. Introverted, prefered solitude over a life of party. Keith was the only person in the room to get visibly upset over Lance's noise. No, He wouldn't tell Lance to shut up. He'd grimace and leave the space whenever he could. He moved away and completes his tasks in the furthest cubicle in the corner, ever since Lance failed multiple attempts to get him to talk.

  
"Heyyyy I'm Lance" He'd extend his arm to Keith.  
"For the last time, if this isn't work related don't bother me".  
  
  
On account of Keith being a loner, he excelled in his work. He was as a result paid higher, offered job security, was the employee of the month for 6 months straight, knocking Lance down to second place. Lance magnifed how his rival was praised more than he was, he antagonized the boy very early on. He thought of making friends with the enemy, Keith paid no regard just like all the girls who'd ask him out.  
  
"do you wanna go out and have... Lunch?" a girl asked the wallflower. She had a petite figure, a well maintained figure and body fat evenly distributed _figure_... _figure_ , _figure_.... She worked in the purchasing department, which was a huge deal to Lance.

Where he worked, it's just the function managers who'd interact with other departments regularly. Lance watched. He riled jealousy and his lips tightened to form a straight line. "Lance getting upset over Keith's luck again" the a group of 7 gossiped, they sighed.This is so Lance _. A girl from another department asked Keith out?_  
  
"uhhh... I have lunch everyday...?"  
  
Either Keith was oblivious on purpose or really never understood how dates work.

"uh.. I mean, could we go out sometime?" _god she was so nervous._

"...whyy?" he cocked an eyebrow.

"to get to know you...?"

"do we have something to work on?"

She gave up, "never mind".  
  
Lance couldn't relate to him and that bothered him. Lance would boast to Hunk and Pidge if a cute girl asked him out. Keith looked like he had no one to boast to. Like being admired didn't really matter to him. _What is going on in his mind?_

A few night shift employees showed up. Lance slouched, wandered entering the ground floor and moving towards the building's exit. He over heard the same cute girl chitchat with the receptionist,

"Maybe he's gay. Hmmmm?"

Apart from Hunk, who was the closest to Keith in the department, no one knew what he did except for the information they'd occasionally hear Hunk spill out. Keith was usually calm, but if pushed he wouldn't hesitate to argue, and if he's in the mood he'd throw a punch.  
  
"I haven't seen him show any interest in men either, it's alright, there's more fish in the sea" the other responded.  
  
_Oh shit. Keith's popular with the receptionist too?_

  
  
The afternoon heat pressed like needles piercing on the skin, Lance hurried on the rail transit, it was cool inside.  
  
Along with other fatigued people of the economy's work force, He spotted a few collegues, one standing and the other two relaxing on the seat, he joined and launched a conversation. They weren't in the mood to talk, so they just listened to his blabbering.  
  
Ah yes, Keith was in the same train compartment this time. Sitting quietly with his arms folded staring straight ahead.  
  
His co-worker caught him eyeing Keith, to stir up a new conversation they commented, "heh, look at that emo. He sits like a girl", how his face didn't have any traces of facial hair, has serious mommy issues and is probably gay- they called him "gay" as an insult.

Successful porno mag customers followed pick-up artist tutorials. Then they would manage to score an exotic woman, whenever these customers paraded the street with the woman, it was _them_ who'd look worthy of recognition.

This would eventually kick start a new line of insecure young adults. They'd ask, "how did you get a hot girl to cling to you without looks or money?" or " _how do I date pretty girls to be recognized as an alpha?"_ , causing a new cycle of magazine hoarders.

Keith wasn't one of those cutomers because he didn't care. _**Do social ranks even affect him?**_

"...and he probably bathes himself with lube" the three of them laughed. _wow. hilarious._  
Lance hated Keith, but something made him bolt in defense  
  
"Cut it out guys!" he attempted to hush them.

"yea, no more emo jokes. He'll cut it out himself-"  
  
"Wait, I thought you hated him?" asked the other co-worker.  
  
"I DO! it's just.... not okay to say stuff like that...?" he scratched his head.  
  
The three of them fixed an intent gaze on Lance. That's not what Lance would say when he's socializing. He'd either roll with it or if he's bothered by someone's bad behavior he'd point it out and try to rub it in their face.

"Bro are you okay? you seem like support group really did turn you into a wimp"  
  
Lance couldn't throughly put his finger on what drove him to defend Keith.

* * *

 

**Tw: Violence**

  
It was getting dark, and the world around him seemed to be muted as he was lost in his negative thoughts.

Hunk visited him, there was little to fix a meal, sensibly went to the nearest store directly after leaving the train station. He had all the ingredients Hunk asked for, but he HAD to get something for himself.

He unconsciously moved away from the cold women's aisel, after seeing a really expensive, heavily advertised body lotion on the shelf.  
  
**I want that**. He calculated his income and expenses. The budget was tight, with only a kitty to save.  
  
There was no replica of it in the men's section, no body lotion that had the same contents but packed in a dark coloured bottle. So he had to go with the rosy one.  
  
He decided to take another longer route "home" which he was familiar with. It so happened to spite him because he'd seen Keith take that route and disappear, occasionally meeting up with a rugged man in a red leather jacket and going home. Lance had just never been there to see what happens after sun down.  
  
He passed a few buildings in the narrow almost-empty road during which he heard a group of men roaring instead of laughing. There was a loud bang of something being thrown against a metal dumpster. It just unfortunately happened to be the next area he should pass to get to his building.  
  
Infront of a renovating restaurant was a pack of men. Their leader seated on the bonnet of a grey 90s model car, the head lights were on facing the activity so that he could watch over them like a tyrant.  
  
It was one of the city's gang, around 20 men, their shirts were ripped off and they looked extremly greasy, couple of them beating the living soul of another doomed middle aged man who happened to get caught in the Venus fly trap. They were notorious for causing mayhem in the area, they hung out in groups as some way to rebel against the police. Where ever there's a riot, they'll be there, looting for fun. They connected by unemployment.  
  
Lance ran in. The audience (gang) saw the young adult rush to aid the target with his shopping bag hanging from the wrists.

"Stop. STOP... STOP!" he yelled, his arms stretched to his sides like a traffic police. The men beating the sucker were interrupted.  
  
One of them was tall, bald, muscular, and looked like a co-star from Saving private Ryan.  
  
The other wasn't that muscular, but maintained a fierce dominant look with tattoos and intentional scars.  
  
"You wanna fight twink?" asked the taller one.  
  
"No. I'm not here to fight. I'm just here to take this man home..."  
  
They laughed. Lance knew he was fucked. _Ah shit. Classic Lance._  
  
The leader of the pack stepped in, smoking his Marlboro. After taking a breath of tobacco he took his own sweet time to respond, his chin raised high and his thumb in his pocket. He was wearing a black leather jacket, being the only one actually wearing a top, perhaps to symbolize authority.  
  
"I wonder how you survive with that cocky attitude Lance" he says, "Maybe that's why you prey on insecure girls like Jenny. So that it'll make you feel great knowing that a girl's running after you"  
  
This was Gerald Shaybon, his ex's brother. A complete waste of a bully who'd take things to a whole new level but cared deeply for his sister that it almost looked  incestuous. His voice was gruff and monotonous, it alone could signal that he was the alpha of the pack. He was the stereotypical "Stay away from my daughter I have a shot gun" type, except he didn't have a shot gun nor was a parent. The man liked to assume that all who approached her for a date had ill intentions.  
  
Lance was one of them, but he was unaware that he was being a big jerk.  
  
"It's a good thing she came to her senses and broke up with you", the alpha continued, " **You can't play hard to get if you're hard to want.** "  
  
"Woah woah dude. That's a heavy accusation. I was trying to help her realize that she should feel good about herself. That there's someone who'll pay for stuff and make the right choices for her  
  
Now if you'll excuse me", he picked up the man and swung his arm over his shoulders, the man groaned in pain, "I'm leaving with this man".  
  
He turned away. A big burly man cast a shadow over him, blocking his path.  
  
"HEY! MOVE!" Lance ordered.  
  
He heard knuckles cracking behind him. The same couple of men were approaching, like the were angry someone else tried to take their bait.  
  
His skin went pale and he lost his grip on the injured man. He was so terrified that he felt his soul shake violently in his body, leaving just flesh and blood in the middle of an assault.  
  
He murmured, "woah hey guys... you need to-"  
  
Hard knuckles swung to his face, Lance had never felt his jaw being hit so hard that he could hear it. He was slapped onto the floor within a split second. He could barely comprehend what just happened except that he had been hit by a meteorite. His eyes burned and blood dripped from his lips.  
  
The sun had gone down completely, the sky was dark blue.  
  
There was yelling and cheering, the occasional laughter when Lance tried to fight back. His nose may have been broken, but not his will to fight back. His hands clench to a fist, He smirked as he squared up. He knew he'd be dead meat, but he told himself that this could be a good reason to express his anger physically without being a douche.  
  
His opponent caught him by his collar and threw him like a kraken destrying a ship, he fell on his back, hitting the back of his head hard, _this is why they take their shirts off_ , the kraken tried to elbow drop on his abdomen, but Lance rolled away, causing the man a great shock of pain when his elbow pierced the ground. He growled.  
  
Lance took the opportunity to kick him in the face. The man bit his tongue.  
  
Unfairly, another member from the gang sneaked from behind and tackled him to the floor. He kept a chokehold on Lance, he intention wasn't to choke the Cuban to death but to give the larger man time to recover from his failed elbow drop.  
  
While the bear of a man was squaring up again, Lance signalled the middle aged victim to get to safety. He understood instantly what Lance's gestures meant and ran away. No one bothered to chase him since they found their new victim.  
  
A motorbike was approaching fast, it's head lights were on and it sped towards the gang.  
  
The biker dashed towards the large man, he moved away barely dodging it.  
  
The brakes were applied causing the bike to drift in the direction of Lance, it was just a few inches away from touching his legs.  
  
"Keith?" he spoke with the chokehold still on. Keith dismounted and drove a skilled kick to the guy behind Lance, the gang immediately began to move to the center where Keith and Lance where.  
  
"GET ON THE BIKE"  
  
Lance obeyed. Keith taking the front and him at the back. He wrapped his arms around Keith's waist, he heard the engine growl, watching the herd of bulls run after them.  
  
They were just a hair's length away from being pushed off the motorbike and beaten up again.  
  
They plunged ahead into the boulevard and then away from the sight of the gang. Lance breathing heavily, trying to make his heart slow down.  
  
"JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING LANCE? IF IT WASN'T FOR THAT BEAT UP GUY INFORMING ME YOU'D BE GOOD AS DEAD!" , Keith had to scream, he wouldn't be heard otherwise due to the noisy force of air surging around them and the fast moving road.  
  
"ME?! I WAS JUST TRYING TO DO SOMETHING GOOD"  
  
"YOU COULD HAVE CALLED THE POLICE. DID YOU REALLY THOUGHT NEGOTIATING WITH A VIOLENT GANG WOULD WORK?!"  
  
Lance took a breath and wanted to say something. He was right. But Lance's emotional instincts kick in whenever there's a fight, except that this time it was a fist fight with many participants.  
  
"that's your problem Lance. You don't think things through" Keith added.  
  
"hey... Where's my grocery bag?..."

* * *

  
  
Hunk was waiting in the living room, the TV was on mute so that it wouldn't interfere with his anxiety. Lance wasn't picking up the phone even after multiple attempts. No Lance would take more than 20 minutes to pick stuff from the grocery store.  
  
The phone began to play a loud tune.  
  
Hunk seized the phone, it was Keith.

  
  
"Hunk, Lance will make it back late. He's in the hospital"  
  
"what? Did something big happen??"  
  
"yea, he got himself involved with that gang. Minor injuries. He'll be fine. He told you to go home. Just leave his  keys under the doormat. See ya"  
  
"No wait Keith I can't just leave without making sure he's fine, where are you at-"  
  
He heard the line hang up.

* * *

  
  
Lance showed up late to work wearing an arm support sleeve. The right side of his face partially covered with bandages, heavily communicating that he had been in a fight. Hunk accompanied him. He promptly caught everyone's attention as he wasn't boasting his usual erratic behavior. As he passed the rows of cubicles, he was bombed with questions, not the repulsive kinds, but rather they were sympathetic about his well being. Everyone knew no matter how annoying he'd get, Lance would never get into a physical fight. The doctor, Keith AND Hunk advised him to stay home so that his body could rest and his arm needed ice, but Lance hated being alone.  
  
He sank his fingers into his hair "I fell down the stairs". Certainly no one bought the lie, rather it gave them a hint that he didn't want to talk about it.  
  
Then there was Keith, for the first time in since he joined the resource, he made eye contact with Lance that wasn't because Lance bothered him. It was a brief moment, Lance caught on quickly that Keith was imploding with anger, in his cubicle, packing his belongings into a cardboard box and payed no heed to anyone around him. He left the department without a single 'bye'. Hunk was about to follow him but cancelled it knowing that the young man just needed time alone.  
  
From the looks of it, Keith was fired. Lance should have been happy, now that Keith's out of the way, Lance would be the employee of the month again, but abruptly ending his joy due to this new found connection with this Keith. _This man saved me._

  
  
The day ended smoothly, but the air was different. Lance didn't entertain the employees with his bad jokes, He was quiter than usual and constantly checked on Keith. Of course he was fired but Lance still watched his cubicle as if he was going to come back.  
Hunk scheduled a meeting with his family this weekend, he was supposed to pack quick and leave. It was afternoon and rush hour, everyone was getting back home. Routinely, Hunk would take the light rail instead of walking home. Especially when he thought Lance could use some company. He shared a room with Lance when they were in university and did wacky things together, along with their junior, Pidge who right now is still needs half a year to complete her final semester.  
  
"Oh man Lance. That's really bad. I'm just glad you're not in a coma or something. D-don't take the long route back home ever again!" he warned. This was no gang of rusty teenagers they were talking about. They were a bunch of people who'd often get arrested for displaying aggression on silly things.  
  
"Hmmm... that reminds me", he stroked his chin without looking skeptical, "Keith told me something about avoiding them. They never forget the faces of whome they beat up"  
  
"Are they gonna come after you?"  
  
"As long as I don't come in contact with them... I'm safe??"  
  
Hunk didn't say anymore, his eyebrows pressed closer to each other and showed genuine concern for his friend. The light rail slowed down and double doors made an electric "Bing" before splitting. This was Hunk's stop.  
  
"Stay safe while I'm gone buddy", they gave each a salutation of departure by a brief hug and a pat on the back.  
  
Another round of few stops and Lance got down. The sky had a nice blend of blue, pink and orange. There were a handful of clouds painted in the sky, they looked weak, like a mild wind could blow them and it'd disappear. Among all the worn out people stepping out of the light rail onto the platform, he saw Keith leaving from the third compartment to his right. His hair was dark and uncombed in a way that he looked like a cute stray cat. He had his cardboard box.  
  
"Keith? **KEITH**!!"  
  
Keith turned to identify the call. Lance was running to him. He heaved in surprise. Keith wasn't ready to talk to anyone in this pathetic, nerve wrenching situation.  
  
"Hey..." Lance's voice trembled as he looked at him with vulnerable yet strong eyes.  
  
Keith gave a nod of recognition. They kept walking.  
  
"I didn't thank you enough for saving me"  
  
"Lance, I told you to stay home and I don't have time for this"  
  
That tone struck a cord in his heart. Not that Lance was hypersensitive, but he wanted to be emotionally open at the moment. They made it out of the station, crossing a junction and then making their way to a boulevard. Lance had no designation to leave Keith alone. He knew his pal had been fired, Keith wasn't supposed to be here but he was on the same railway as him. He was sweaty and smelled of old spice cologne. He just wanted console him, make him open up and put some trust.  
  
Lance sighed and let go of his goofy attitude, his voice softened, "Look, Keith, I know you're the type that finds it difficult to confide in someone when you're going through shit. You really can talk to me you know. Or anyone really, like Hunk".  
  
"Lance, are you going to keep following me?" he growled, still being agitated but Lance could see some progress in the way his tone shifted to a more relaxed side.  
  
"You're not the only one facing problems" He smiled, he undid his tie slid his hands into his hands into his pockets and gazed darkening sky. They tuned right and down to a friendly street, exiting the boulevard. There were shops at the sides and they switched on their display lights. Lance could feel the tension in his muscles wither away around the quiet Keith. Trees on the side walk spaced evenly apart, so that when one looked up they'd see the stars along with the underbelly of the branches and leaves. The atmostphere was perfect.  
  
"I thought coming here to the city would help me refresh my mind and start a new life as advertised", he paused, "Now I just miss my family and feel incomplete all the time. I've dated several girls, but it never managed to help me grow as a person... Do you... ever think about stuff like that?"  
  
Keith couldn't relate, he tried to emphasize.  
  
"I didn't grow up with parents, so I have no clue what it feels like to have real parents, I..." He looked down into his open box.  
  
Oh.  
  
First his job, now his abandonment. Lance noticed that this subject was too touchy to talk about at the moment, so he contemplated what to say that wouldn't offend him.  
  
"... hey what's that in your box?", Lance eyed a shiny brass knuckle.  
  
"Oh this?.. It's a brass knuckle"  
  
"well obviously! why do you have that with you? How did you even get that through the metal detectors of the building?"  
  
"I just picked up when I saw it being sold at a lower price Lance"  
  
"so what are you planning to do with it?"  
  
"wear it"  
  
"no man, I mean, you're gonna fight or something?"  
  
He saw Keith smirking and then looking up at him, "it's better than therapy"

  
Oh boy. This kid really is mysterious. Lance had no reply for that. Keith didn't look like a guy who'd fight, he was skinny, pretty and never got any scars on his face as proof of violence.  
  
"man, Keith. IS THAT A BOOK ABOUT KNITTING?"  
  
Keith looks down to his box, under his brass knuckles was a book on knitting.  
  
Keith stammered, "IT'S NOT FOR ME"  
  
"HAH. Do you--"  
  
There reached to the end of the road, Keith would have to turn left to get to his destination and Lance would keep walking straight, but they stopped there, both of them looking up at the sky, noticing the smoke rising a few blocks away. There was a fire somewhere, it was Lance's building.  
  
He prayed it wasn't his apartment. His heart jumped and he bolted with the speed and agility of a cat, ignoring keith, crossing the road so recklessly that a car almost hit him. He had no time to think about being rammed by a vehicle and breaking his bones for real. Keith dropped his box to the side and followed.  
  
_It was my apartment after all?_  
  
The window of his bedroom, up in the fourth floor. The glass had blown out from the heat. His blue curtains wrecked with fire, flames were pouring out of the square hole in the wall. It darkened the walls surrounding it with soot. Fire fighters sending a jet of water through the window and more uniformed men going in the buliding to recover his undamaged belongings. The electricity had been cut off from that fraction of the building.  
  
A bunch of people stood outside watching the disaster, waiting for a signal that they could get in the building. No casualties, and only one apartment was affected. . The firefighters got the flames under control and started chucking stuff out of the window. Lance had now lost everything -- No material goods which he could identify along with the onlookers. He had been absorbed by the blaze and could not look at nothing else, he watched, speechless, motionless.

* * *

  
  
Lance was informed by the firefighters that the door was already busted open when they tried to get it. To most appearances it was an arson. Most likely the gang he encountered the previous day figured out where he lived and took their sour revenge. It would have been horrible if Lance had stayed home. He insisted that his family must NOT be informed about this, his mother's already worried sick about his emotional state. The landlord agreed to keep some of the undamaged goods until Lance found a new permanent place to stay or if the flat was renovated quickly.  
  
Lance didn't want to walk, his energy had been completly drained as he tried to supress his intense emotions. Keith had to take the trouble of walking all the way home, aquring his bike, and back to pick up Lance, who was seated behind the mullet again on the motorbike. He hugged Keith's waist with his unfractured arm and spaced out in disbelief. The bike was moving past the speed limit but Lance was too overwhelmed to noticed anything. His forehead rested against the biker's back. They both kept quiet the whole time, about 8 minutes before Keith slowed down and drove into a narrow neighbourhood. They stopped infront of a house that resembled middle class income.  
  
Keith agreed to let Lance stay over.

 **Keith**. _Keith_. **Who is Keith to Lance now**?  
  
He nudged Lance's shoulder, smiling at him ensuring everything's going to be alright.  
  
Keith pressed the doorbell.  
  
A well built man with a white streak of hair opened the door, he was wearing a surgeon's uniform. He looked like someone who'd hit the gym for his own benefit and was a respected citizen of socitey. Someone with a good job. Someone in touch with his feminine side. _Someone who'd conform??_

"Oh", he was surprised since he wasn't expecting any guests, "You must be Lance?".  
 Lance nodded and they both shook hands. "I'm Shiro, Keith's guardian".  
  
 


	2. Weekend fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Lance's apartment was arsoned by a gang, Keith agrees to let Lance stay over. On hearing Lance still being upset over his break-up with Jenny, Keith introduces him to Isamu, the embodiment of an Alpha male who runs a fight club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Sexist language, homophobia, depression, violence  
> Isamu is supposed to be Tyler Durden.

He left his family in the country-side, anticipating a nice girl and a stable job to settle down with in the city. Like many others he fell for this hoax.

The betrayal stoked up his depression.

"It's only 7 o' clock, do you want anything?", Keith searched his cupboard for something Lance could wear.

The room was small, softly hued and plain. Lance was seated on the side of Keith's bed, his knees apart and his elbows resting on them, just looking down to his phone. Hunk had sent him an SMS regarding his dad not being home when he visited.

"no..."  
He felt like his identity and belonging had been stripped off by the loss of his material goods. He wasn't a money minded person but he was always calculating his expenses due to his tight income. After months of careful calculation all his goods were burned to nothing. Lance could have died if he stayed in his apartment. He revisited his age old question **'am I living my life?'**.

  
Keith pulled out a cotton shirt and loose bermuda shorts, he folded them in his arms an sat next to him. Before he could say anything, Lance spoke, "Keith" just to make sure he was listening,"Do you see me as a failure?"

  
Keith was taken aback by that question. Lance wasn't the type of man who'd confront such questions, "not at all Lance," he reached his arm in attempt to touch Lance's shoulder, to comfort him, but pulled back since he didn't want touch anyone affectionately. Lance moved and looked at Keith with a shadow cast over his eyes, "why would you care about something like that?" Keith inquired.  
"Heck, I can  appreciate that this month had the most twists and turns but it's also been the worst so far" he heaved a short humorless laugh.

  
"is it also about your break up?"

  
"that's one thing. I just don't know what I'm doing with life," he paused, while his heart was heavy he collected and strategized energy in his chest to talk about his feelings without actually feeling them, "Aside from partying and getting drunk, I have done nothing exciting and fulfilling for a long time and doing nothing keeps reminding me about how I can't find a place to truly contribute and feel important.. and why it bothers me...".

  
Keith sighed, he rose from the bed and moved to his box from the office.

"The solution is always out there, Lance, and it's looking for you, and it will find you if you want it to."

He took off his shirt revealing his tank top, standing infront a yellow lamp light perched on his study table at the other end of his room, scattering both light and shadow so evenly causing his skin to glow. His cheek bones were highlighted, he looked truly mesmerizing, a treasure in a normally bleak world. Lance noticed something on Keith he'd never seen before -- tattoos. His whole arm was covered with it. He picked up the brass knuckles, and a mischievous beam appeared across his face, "Lance, you wanted to know why I had these?"

* * *

 

Shiro was in the living room, peacefully sipping tea and reading that book about knitting. He was only reaching 30s but required the quietness of a retirement home. They stealthily crept downstairs and into the kitchen where the back door was. Just as they thought they had made it, "Keith, where are you going?" a voice asked. Keith jumped. It was Shiro, holding a mug that said "space dad".  
"Lance? It's dark outside. Shouldn't you have been washed already and given new clothes?". His tone wasn't particularly condescending, he was behaving like an inquisitive  parent.

"uhhh yea we're just going to see..Hunk..." says Lance.

  
"Lance I know Hunk's not home..."

  
The three of them kept quiet, Shiro's ears expecting for an answer. Aside from Keith making a new friend, Shiro knew that something had happened to Keith alone. Except that he was unaware about Keith being kicked out of his job.  
"...I...I'm just.. showing Lance around??"  
Shiro turned away, knowing it was a lie. But he decided not to press on the matter, he thought the weekend support group was actually breaking down Keith's trust issues, "just don't get yourself in a fight like the last time. Lance, keep a watch on him" he cautioned, "and don't follow Isamu's footsteps. He's a bad influence on you, Keith". Shiro sunk his mug into the kitchen sink, his eyes lingered for a while before leaving.  
  
Keith ambled further down the neighbourhood, somewhere Lance never cared to explore. Lance aimlessly followed to a narrow lane with coarse houses and run down buildings at the sides. It was lonely, there were dim stars in the sky, and they could hear their own footsteps.  
Out of nowhere, Keith popped a question, "If you  could beat up anyone, who would it be?"

"Huh? that's an odd question. I don't really want to think about it"

"Oh come on Lance"

"Keith I don't want to even dream of beating up anyone"

"You'd get to know yourself more if you answered"

"Lotor... Lotor it is".

Awkward silence. Lance coughed, "who would you punch?"  
Keith found it midly funny and laughed quietly, "our branch manager. Our boss. I mean, YOUR boss".

"I'd kill to see that"

"you're late. I got fired for punching him in the eye"  
  
Lance wheezed in surprise, he flung his arm around the little spoon's shoulder and fist bumped his chest. Keith floundered in the process. They were getting closer to the destination. It was a worn out singles bar that was invisible unless you wanted to find that place. It was masterfully located down an alley way, it cried for renovation, something a person would know existed only through word of mouth. Like a hide out. It's redneck rock music reiterated through it's walls. Waste lay scattered on the ground, some old enough to get buried by dirt. Just one lamp post illuminating the area a few feet away. Beside the entrance was an oxidzed and abandoned Nissan that had most of it's parts stolen.

Keith and Lance walked around it to find it's enterance. There was nothing about the door that could attract attention. "Kolivan's Tavern" a dingy wooden sign with bulbs above it said. There were people inside, but there wasn't a single living thing outside the bar other than the two _lost_ men. Inside were hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, trying to compete with the loud melody. What would Keith be doing in a place like this? Lance questioned. It's loud and cramped with  college students and singles, Keith would rather make-out with a chainsaw than be anywhere near this havoc.

They stopped.

Lance inspected the bar. Keith grinned like a child.

"aaaaand you brought me to a singles bar?"

"Girlfriend?"

"Keith I don't need one right now"

"I know" Keith kept his evasiveness, he had something under his sleeve,"I brought you here for something else"

"What exactly?" he cocked an eyebrow

" **Fight** "

"WHAT? WITH WHOME?"

"It's better than therapy or crying over a heartbreak"

"THIS IS THE WORST ADVICE"

"Trust me buddy, it works for men like us."

"Keith. **WHAT THE FUCK**? I've already been in a fight, you need to get out of this shithole- wait... ISN'T THIS WHAT SHIRO WARNED ABOUT?"

"Do you ever think about the limited time you have before your bones get rusty? You don't have any exciting turns in your life because you're too much of a fag to take risks!"

"NO man. I've never hit anybody and dude cut it out"

Keith ignored, "Surprise me"

"WHAT?"

"Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror? You're busy being upset over some girl who dumped you and a burned apartment. There's more important things in life than feeling sorry for yourself"

"...". Lance was desperate. He kept searching for ways to ease his pain. Something to give him meaning in life that's not material goods like cars and sex. Keith's lightning talk gave him new dimensions of looking at the world.

  
Keith sighed. Maybe he was being too harsh. "okay. Lance. Before you get in, I need you to hit me"

"WHAT?"

"Come on dude, hit me as hard as you can. Don't be afraid" Keith moved his arms away from his body and displayed his face and abdomen.

"No! I can't. It doesn't feel right!"

Keith turned his back on Lance and stretched his arms in the air. He then quickly stepped into Lance's personal space, slid a tight grip on his shoulder, and brought his face closer till they were breathing each other's air. He pointed his index finger and pressed it on Lance's chest.

"You" he said, looking down at his finger poking Lance's shirt, Lance could hear his respiration, "How would you know more about yourself if you haven't been in a fight?"  
He lets go. " DO IT" he orders. Lance lashed a strong hail stone made of knuckle to Keith's jaw, subsequently noticing that his hand moved on it's own. Keith let moan slip his vocal chords.

"SHEESH DUDE YOU HIT MY EAR!" he laughed and covered his ear, and then checking if there was blood.  
Perplexed on discovering his primal urges. Lance couldn't fathom physically injuring anyone if it wasn't for self defense. Beating up someone he considered an equal felt questionably different. He smiled.  
Keith dashed towards him and charged and uppercut punch, knocking Lance down. He wasn't prepared for this, Lance crashed on the abandoned car and saw the world turn around him.

"No one would suspect that mullet boy gets into fights like this" in seconds he was back on his feet and charged. He ran towards the punching range and threw up his forearm. Keith squirmed away from the blow, he grabbed Lance's arm and performed an armlock, then skillfully manipulated his body and Lance couldn't register how he was bent over Keith's knee. Keith blasted a powerful knee to Lance's torso. He felt his insides crush and his eyes gaged, a hideous cramp formed around his lower ribs, and breathing became difficult. 

Another slam by the knee, struck so violently than the previous that Lance's breathing was weakened to a feather, about to pass out, saliva drooled from his mouth and something worked up his esophagus. Lance tugged Keith's white tank top and tried to break free, with every hit to the stomach making his hands tremble.  


"WOAH! Hey! Stop it you two" a voice ordered.

Keith immediatly dropped the fight and Lance fell helplessly. He heard the prowling footsteps of seven tall, shadowy men, unable to make out their faces as his vision was muddled with distress. It was a gang. They gave off a different vibe in comparison to the previous gang Lance was mauled by, following their lead, a man wearing a red doublerider jacket. His hair was dark brown and tousled, a purple bruise under his chin. _They always go for the face first_. He paralled Gerald Shaybon in multiple ways, except this man could care less about picking on random strangers. He pulled a cigarette to his bloody lip that had formed a scab due to neglect.

He exhaled smoke and shared a dignified comradery handslap with Keith. This was the man Lance would see Keith meeting up with after work. He then moved to Lance and extended his arm like he was looking down on a subordinate. He helped the clueless boy stand up straight, and they made eye contact  
"Isamu" he said. It sounded more like an order than an introduction.  
"Lance"  
"wanna join a place where you can be yourself?"  
Lance understood what it meant, if you got yourself into a fight anywhere, people would police us to stop. But Isamu was different. He approved of this behavior. "yes".

 

Isamu banged the door open, as per chain of command he swaggered into the bar, Lance was Keith's friend and a newbie who needed a proper introduction, so he followed after. The rest of the men ambled, like the Band of the Falcon following the leader Griffith, to give meaning to his life as they had none of their own. The bar was almost full, as they paraded to the end of the bar, more members joined. 25 men. Ostensibly this gang were about to do something so paramount that they left the beautiful women they got a chance to talk to for this event. A few heads turned and went back to chatting. They were all too familiar with this group of men.

Isamu unlocked a poor door at the end and it led to a wide basement.

They assembled as sailors would in the lackluster basement. The paint had cracked formed on the walls, Isamu gets under the one unprofessionally set up light bulb in the middle of the black concrete space. The eyes in the room were darkened by a shadow, none of them resembling anything like hope.

He waited till everyone shut the fuck up, he was about to give a grand speech, Keith informed Lance that it was something he did everytime there were new members. There were three noobs.

"I see... I see all this potential, and I see it squandered. An entire generation pumping gas", he points his finger and waves it at everyone, "waiting tables - slaves with white collars." he tugged Lance's collar and let go, he wrapped his arm around Lance's shoulders and continued to speech the crowd, "Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need.

We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war... Our great depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires..." they laugh humorlessly  "movie gods... and rock stars... and then have all the women in the world, but we won't. We're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off", a bold cheering followed.

No matter how many times Isamu gave his realist speech, they did not get tired of it. It was realist after all. A grim reminder like this served as an antidote to their boredom.

"You are generation of men raised by women... You forgot how to fight because there's no one to teach you that it's okay. And I use the word 'forgot' because it's inside all of you; but you don't know enough about yourself, this new social order is like a tumor in your brain that stops you from thinking"  
Isamu yells, "The first rule about fight club is you don't talk about fight club", he walks horizontally infront of the club, blazing fierce stares into each of them.  
"The second rule about fight club," Isamu yells, "is you **don't talk about** **fight club**."

Isamu runs through the other rules: two men per fight, one fight at a time, no shoes no shirts, fights go on as long as one gives a sign of giving up. If this was someone's first night at fight club they HAVE to fight.

 

Lance watched Keith confidently moved to the center of the human ring. _Keith fights under the lightbulb_ , bruises on his body but no scars on his face, this was how he played in a fight club under Shiro's radar. The shouting beasts praised his fighting style, all of their noises sounded like pain and anger no matter what they were feeling. A passive man who once wore a business attire raised his hand to ask a question, like a schoolboy "May I go next?" his voice trembled. The audience wooed. _Keith was really something here_.  
Isamu went up to the man and circled him like he was prey. The civilian shed sweat, Isamu got close to him as possible, then let out a low growl, "raise your arm up like that again and I'll break it".

Keith had learnt martial arts before. This slow man had no chance to wrestle this tiger. The tiger brooded at the sheep, waiting until it moved. The newbie confidently strikes a pose and goes for Keith. He sent a roundhouse to right under his jaw, Keith blocked the punch and twisted his arm. He brought his other arm across the sheep's midsection and struck his elbow. It was meant to break his arm, but Keith was being merciful today. The man wailed, and the fight continued until the tiger silenced the sheep.

A minute later and Keith tackled the man to the ground, they viciously fought until the man gave up, sore with pain. That's enough. Keith got up to his feet and pulled the man along with him. They both smiled like Hyenas and shared a tough comaradory hug, his teeth were red as his mouth filled with blood, the sheep had evolved into a carnivore, Keith congratulating him for unleashing his primal instincts.

Both of them exited the ring. "YOU!" Isamu yelled, pointed at Lance and stunned him, "Get in the ring".

Lance swallowed. He had agreed to do this but he didn't expect the atmosphere to be _this_ violent and chaotic.

_This is going to disappoint my mother._

Lance took a deep breath, the club's yelling and praise melted into static, forgetting consequences as he exhaled. Now his face looks damn serious, ripped the bandages off his face and entered the ring.

* * *

 

 

**11:00 pm**

Shiro was asleep, Lance received brand new bruises and cuts over his body. It was his first night at fight club and he won, but this wasn't about winning or losing. Nothing was solved when the fight was over, nothing mattered. Lance twisted his ankle, it took much effort than usual to move his limbs, there was Keith to support him. They crashed into the entrance, and turned on the lights. He was overwhelmed, after living in a stagnant risk-less life the introduction to the club was a game changer. He had somewhere to release his anger, some where people would appreciate his anger. Maybe self-destruction was the right answer.

Keith let the taps run and filled the bathtub with luke warm water. There were candles, bath bombs and that stuff. They belonged to Shiro, Lance had the permission to use them, but after the fight club grooming for comfort became foreign him. Keith left to get a first aid. Lance closed the taps and immersed himself in the warm water, his skin went loose.

**"What you know you can't explain, but you feel it" Morpheus explains, "You've felt it your entire life, that there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad".**

Who cares? Who cares that your apartment just burned down and went to a fight club hours later? He relaxed and the perception of his wounded body died out.

He heard Keith let the toilet seat down and sat on it. He took a long hard look at his brass knuckles.

"Keith?..."

"mmhmm?"

"brass knuckles weren't allowed in the club..."

"I know"

"why'd you bring it along?..."

"It's a statement that I can fight. An accessory. I think they look neat"

Lance moved in the tub, "Doesn't that sound sorta hypocritical?"

"Yes but I try not to identify with it" he paused , "If I did, the things you own end up owning you".

Lance heaved a short laugh, "Deep..."

Keith smirked, "That's why you had to meet Isamu"

"I figured"

Keith picked up the first aid kit with a cold pad and kneeled next to the tub, Lance watched and smiled warmly with his eyelids slightly apart.

"I was gonna tell you to treat your wounds yourself, but if I let you do that Shiro would be mad at me" he opened the box, Keith knew a little about treating patients since his guardian was a surgeon.

Lance soaked, Keith tried to touch his face with a cold pad, _This is weird,_ he blushed and the temperature rose, the sounds in the bathroom magnified, he lightly grasped Keith's arm before it reached his face.

"I'll... do it myself"

"You're in pain Lance, you can't even move your arm well"

"Yes I can!" he let his arm down and his eyes spasmed in pain.

Keith's eyes twinkled in amusement.

"Man Lance, if Richard Nixon lied like you he wouldn't even have won the election in the first place"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter follows Lance going to a support group, He starts to get close to keith and feel butterflies. Isamu's actually a pretty chill dude, like a philosopher for boys who can't clean their rooms unless told to.


	3. Keith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW:  
> **  
>  SEXIST AND HOMOPHOPIC LANGUAGE  
> 

Most people, normal people, do just about anything to avoid a fight. Exhausted from both his emotions and his physical state, Lance accidentally fell asleep on Keith's bed, his body claimed the sheet entirely. The household had an matress somewhere, Keith was too weary to find it, unwilling to disturb the young fighter sleeping peacefully on his fortress, he took the sofa.

Shiro's an early bird, quietly up in the morning and out for a run. When Lance was awake, Keith was already in the kitchen fixing his breakfast. Apparently Keith and Shiro did not take turns to make breakfast for each other.

Lance entered the kitchen, "Hey..." Keith smiled with sleepy eyes, wearing just his boxers and a large t-shirt while breathing into the coffee's steam, his raven hair untidy with knots. Dewy light from the window allowed someone to make out the contents of the kitchen clearly, like the room was immersed in a filter of cool hues. Lance found artificial lights strangely  uncomfortable. He yawned, "Hhhheyy Keith..." he stretched, "sorry for sleeping on your bed".

"I don't mind", he slides breakfast and coffee across the counter to the white collar boy, then goes back to leaning on the refrigerator and sipping his cup, "so what do you do on the weekends?".

"Nothing much really. I'd plan to go watch a movie with friends or stay home, rewatch those Simpson's episodes on VHS." Lance drinks his coffee, the warmth of the liquid shot up from his lips his body.

"Movies? huh. Never been to one in a long time"

"when was the last time you've gone to the movies?"

"With Shiro I guess, Star Wars. I wanted to watch the recent I,robot... but... " he shrugs.

"oh. Well  then I guess I could take _you to the movies sometime?"_ He paused and his expression went numb. Lance just realised there was some kind of personal gravity in what he said. No _outsider_ had ever asked Keith to watch a movie in the theaters. _  
_

"...yea sure, not today, I'm with the club"

"what do you do there?"

Keith taunted him with his looks, almost sardonic, that was a stupid question. "um, long romantic walks on the beach"

"Dude. I thought fight club's only once a week"

"Yea, I know. Isamu's a a pretty solid guy. When you're with him he'd open your eyes and show you the chances you could take but others won't. You'll want to stay there with the earliest club members, He's like the philosopher young men needed"

"pffft, philosopher for young men with messy rooms"

Someone rang the door bell, it's probably Shiro. That's a relief. Lance had never got the chance to fully introduce himself to him. Keith left to check the door and came back with the words, "This Jenny girl want to see you".

_Jenny Shaybon?_

 

 

"I haven't seen you in a while, a friend told me you haven't been attending support group since we broke up, so I was worried", Jenny wore a pretty yellow dress and a brown hand bag. She curled the bottom of her hair, something she'd do only when she's going on a date. Jenny's already moving on.

He simply mumbled, "yea"

"mind telling me where you got those bruises?"

He looked down on himself. He had never felt so insecure around Jenny. She had a different vibe to her, less pleading and more ordering him to answer questions. There were too many unresolved issues Lance personally had, and she was one of them. Her presence still lingered inside him despite the broken connection. She knew about the fire in his apartment but decided not to mention it.

"was it my brother?" she continued.

"No, thanks for asking. You don't have to worry :) " _it wasn't just your brother._ Lance had a strong feeling Gerald's gang rivaledfight club closely. Similar ideologies, different victims.

"Is support group not working out for you?" she inquired. _How could she act like nothing happened between us?_

"Nope. Like I said, it wastes too much of my time. I could be working on something or watching jepoardy"

She hands out a cheap pamphlet, a new support group had been established nearby, "I know it's not a regular depression support group, but It's got fewer members so it'd be easier for them to extract your problems"

His heart began to ache, _Jenny's very kind_ , ashamed to be receiving help from her, _I'm supposed to be the one supporting her_ , "This is a CANCER support group!"

She laughed, "Just lie, even so they're not going to ask about it if you don't want to talk about it"

He sighed and pressed his fingers against his forehead "look Jenny, thanks for everything. I REally do appreciate it. But please, I don't need any of this!" _I don't need any of your pity_.

Dead-panned and dumbfounded. Assuming that he didn't want to be around her, she stepped back, left the pamphlet on the ground infront of him, like she was leaving a news paper at a doorstep. She looked at him with an expression she never showed him before, "take it or stay miserable", she left with the sound of her heels tapping the ground.

 

Keith, put on his hat, wore casuals, he saw Lance entering with a sullen face, staring at a pamphlet.

"You could join us anytime you know, not just on the weekends. I know Isamu pretty well"

"and what do you guys do there? Listen to his religious preaching?"

"dude"

Keith's guardian enters without knocking, peeps into the kitchen, sweaty and satisfied with his run.

"Shiro" Keith says his name, having nothing else to say. He was at ease when he saw him.

"Did you have your breakfast?"

Keith replied with a predictable 'yes', Shiro was like a real parent despite just being a little older than Keith.  He was confident and humble, he knew how to handle his emotions and deal with intense stress, _a model member of the_ _society_. _Someone who's primary fear **isn't** getting his penis cut off._

Keith waved bye and left.

"Lance what happened to you?"

_Now is he going to dad over me?_

"what do you mean?"

"You've extra bruises I guess?" _Shiro isn't afraid of showing his concern._ "Come here, sit down" in the most vanilla tone he could. Lance sat down on one of the folding metal chairs near the counter and Shiro on the other. The two seats were positioned in such a way that instantly lets Lance know Shiro's done this before with Keith.

Everyone had their personal space, the physical space surrounding someone, like the layers in the earth's atmosphere, when certain people you're not familiar with enters the layers closest to the body, it can feel threatening or uncomfortable.

There was just enough space between them, an arms length so that he could pat Lance on the shoulder once the talking's done.

"What was your childhood like?"

Lance took a while to respond, "I grew up in the country-side, actually, my family's huge. I went to a near by school."

"What was school like there?" Shiro noticed the pamphlet

"Better than how it's here" Lance recalled "there's to much bullying. Every child here owns a handheld console. Back in my school they had 20 something students per class and everyone was close"

"They didn't let you use calculators?"

"Uh yea. How'd you know?"

"Every child owns a handheld console" he repeated

They shared a laugh. They continued talking about school life for a while so that Lance could get comfortable. Shiro went on to talk about what TV was like when he was younger, how Voltron aired only on the Saturdays. Lance talked about his family. Shiro finally asked the question:

"Lance. What's that thing in your hand?"

"Oh this?" he glanced at the paper, "my ex gave it to me"

"Support group huh?" Shiro smiled "Last month I sent Keith to one. He's always unavailable and gets into fights, so I figured he had to know how to make new connections"

"umm... yea.." Lance looked away, sorry for deceiving this man.

"and look, it's actually working!" he stood up and ruffles Lance's hair jokingly, as if they were already very close, "I'm glad that he's made a new friend"

Lance remembered the fight club, "hey, what about this Isamu guy?"

Shiro groans and rolls his eyes, he leans to the counter, "He's a bad influence on Keith. Teenagers do risky things. Keith's an adult who knows how to be independent, he's been like that for most of his life. But inside, he's still a teen who thinks he's invulnerable. Isamu sees Keith's vulnerability and turns it into something destructive."

_Hmm okay._

Shiro stared at Lance's bruises while he was looking away. He understood that Lance had met Isamu once before, continued, "You should go to that support group"

"Heh I'm fine, I've been to one before and my balls shrunk"

"Maybe this one's different? Come on, this will do wonders, especially since it's new. We all have stories to tell, and we need a place to tell them. It's not going to hurt if you tried".

 

* * *

 

 

 _Take it or stay miserable_ , he remembered Jenny's words. What was the easiest way to end an emotional battle? _Fight club or **This**_. Fight or talk about petty feelings that no one's going to care about in a few seconds the narration is over.

A paper stuck to a grey door notified him that he was there. Lance had nothing to do the whole day, so maybe this.

Seats were placed in a circle, almost all of them taken by a wide demographic, age didn't matter here, neither did wealth _, because you are not a beautiful and unique snowflake._ On his first meeting with Isamu, he remembered this quote,  " _You are the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all part of the same compost pile"._

The clock struck 12 pm, and the door was pushed, left slighty open to let people know that they can enter anytime, this was when it was time to speak up.

This guy Alvin was the first to speak. His body had formed a lump on his chest. He told his parents and they didn't pay much attention to it, the doctors dismissed that this was probably just a buildup of fats brought on by puberty. "It'll go away eventually, they said. Some time passed, it had been a while since my last check up..." His expressed how his nipples began to discharge weird orange fluid, Kept dismissing it until there came a point when he thought of visiting the doctors again, "they're not gods, maybe they were wrong telling me it was a passing thing. **It was breast cancer.** Men can get breast cancer"

“I was in shock. It was a lot to take in,” he said, he received a back rub from an empathizer, "the idea of living with a feminized illness was very upsetting. I wished it was just some bad joke. You make friends with other cancer patients then, and you watch some of them pass away or beat it. The uncertainty of your survival just hits you right there" touches his chest, "I became very depressed. I was tired of feeling so afraid."

The group nodded understanding his tragedy, Lance felt like an imposter. He was usually the center of attention where ever there was a bunch of people in a room like this, but here he sat in the most stealthiest way possible.

Bob, an extremely large man, says his testicles were removed. Then hormone support therapy. Bob had grown breasts because his testosterone ration was too high. He raised the testosterone level too much, his body increased the estrogen count to seek a balance.

A teenage boy confessed that he was an anorexia survivor and didn't have a history of cancer. He got in to meet different people, teach him to socialize and love himself more. None of them were bothered by that, "We are here to talk about our feelings", an old man in a black tunic says, "your feelings are important just like the rest of ours".

It was Lance's turn to introduce himself. He declined. They accepted, they thought something so terrible had happened to him that he needed time to warm up to the group before speaking. They moved on the the next person's story.

One hour and the session ends, the 15 men stood up, unlike the fight club, Lance didn't receive any instructions. Everyone began to hug and cry. He couldn't register what was going on, he had never seen men cry and hug like people in a funeral. Someone calls Lance's name, "You cry," Bob says and sobs "Go on now and cry." He opened his arms wide to embrace Lance, waiting for him to consent to the hug. He feels the need to say 'no homo', but it'd be too inappropriate.

The air to this room stood apart from the previous support group, there people waited with their mouths open for a story, so you had to talk about it, you **had** to make sense of your feelings and convert it to words.  
Lance leans forward and sinks inside Bob's arms. He'd never hugged a man longer than a second. He could do that here since there were no women watching. "You're hurting inside and stop denying it" he cries advice, "confront what hurt you the most". Lance snapped, Jenny, his apartment, his family, they flashed infront of his eyes. He had lost the battle against his emotions.

He tightly laches onto Bob's shirt and weeps into his shoulders. Tears quietly spilled down his face. The spider's thread holding his heart broke, and his body tried to collapse as well. Bob's strong arms holding him in place. _I can't stop_.

 

 

"What the hell was that?" asked Keith, Lance jumped. _Yes Lance, what the hell was that?_   Along side Keith was Isamu, looking like a boyband member that was absolutely disgusted. He had left the club members to get familiar with Lance on a personal level. The unfortunate brunette was mortified, frozen on the spot, soaking in Isamu's cruel gaze and Keith ready to mock him. His eyes still swollen as he cried his soul out, blood still rushing to his face.

* * *

 

In the blinding light of the afternoon, Isamu led them back to the bar, they weren't going to fight, he said, he wanted to have beer. He claimed a table, and the two younger men sat in the territory.

Keith didn't mock him, instead felt guilty for giving this alpha high expectations of what Lance would be like, responsible for what Lance was about to go through. "Keith talks alot about you" he said, a waiter slid three beer mugs on the table, "he said you were cool, carefree, and made friends easily" his lips stretched like a bulldog and his eyebrows raised. Keith wanted to tell him to shut up, but they weren't equal to do that, his eyes flickered between the top dog and the country boy, the comfort hit the rocky ground beneath Keith and Lance.  
"Turns out you're one huge disappointment. One day you're at fight club and the next day you're crying like a little girl. You act like you have your emotions under control, but really it's running all over the place, interfering in the smooth running of things", he paused to drink, "you'll spend a few dollars on that group, thinking that it'll benefit you in the long run. I choose my words very carefully, and honestly I don't see any good improvement"

He leans over to the center of the table, eyes at Keith and then shifting back to Lance, the tone of his voice began to lighten, almost as if he was joking with his son "fight club helps you instantly. Pussy boy club doesn't, before you know it your penis turns into a short, stand up comedy for women. Extra cute when you become a dummy waiting for a ventriloquist. Speaking of women, do you know how hard it is to deal with them today? You can't tell them to be obedient and submissive. They tell us to be ourselves and be nice, but do they really think women want a man who cries when she makes fun of his bank account? or a man who tries the hardest to be the best?"

Lance hung his head, Keith was awkward.

Isamu was funny, charming, assertive and independent, and men look up to him and expect him to change their world. _Isamu is capable and free, and I am not._

Isamu breaks out a laughter, he had an odd sense of humor, Lance stared, _is he laughing at me?_ Keith didn't move, this didn't surprise him. _  
_

He took a last big gulp from the beer mug and abandoned the chair, his face beamed like a clown, magically changing the atmosphere, "Let's do something fun"

 

* * *

 

Isamu's idea of fun was drawing penises on the walls, it's common sense that you shouldn't draw and stick bills on private property, Pranking cops, yelling in quiet streets. When you're with Isamu, nothing on earth can stop you, common sense doesn't work here. Common sense means you're not thinking critically or taking risks.

They saw the funny in everything and they bonded over insensitive humor. At a certain point, Lance's guts told him to be confident and winked at every passing girl.  
"Maybe that's why women developed better peripheral vision" Isamu says to Lance, "to avoid creeps like you". Keith had a mesmerizing laugh, it looked alien to Lance. In the last few days he learned so much about 'that hot head in the corner', Keith knew how to laugh his organs out. Almost as if he was human. Keith had a few people he could trust. An excellent fighter but looked soft.

**5:07 pm**

"Whoops, I'll leave you two here. I don't want to get involved with that doctor. It takes more than apples to knock him unconscious" Isamu didn't want to be seen in this neighborhood after all those passive aggressive fights he's had with Shiro. He stood in the middle and _why do they always pat them on the shoulder before leaving?_

"See you soon faggots" He parted ways.

The early bunch of crickets woke to sing a choir. Sun sank lower in the sky, the afternoon draining away, the sky getting darker. On the way home, Lance mentioned how he'd do all sorts of wacky stuffs with Hunk and Pidge back when he was still a university student, none of them were illegal however. 

Mullet was asked to describe his teenage years. Shiro was like an older brother to him, he offered advice and company as Keith's parents were absent. He later took the orphan in as a "guardian" when Keith was 15, which was the worst time since he was going through his rebellious years. Keith goes on to talk about the dick head moves he made in college.

Isamu wasn't around, so Lance noticed a shift in personality, Keith didn't laugh like a man, he giggled like a boy and sharpshooter loved it. It was like listening to his inner child breaking free. _wow Keith can talk. And he comes with the back story my department wanted._ The more data he gave out, the more Lance wanted to be with him.

"Lance?"

Lance listened to the voice, the music, but not what it was trying to say.

"Lance!" Keith fist bumped his shoulder. Lance's skin tingled where he touched him.

"hUh? wHat?" he blinked rapidly

"were home"

Lance didn't note they reached home, standing right in the pathway of the door. Keith smiled, "what the fuck? you were sleep walking", Lance's cheeks flushed hot, and his stomach dropped a sudden weight.

 

Shiro heard Keith's snorts and welcomed them before they could even knock. Greeted them with a lively smile, relieved that these kids didn't get themselves in another fight.

 

Honestly, crying like a baby fixed his sleep. _Maybe I should go to support group more often._ He didn't rest that night with knots in his heart. Lance slept soundly, he had never slept so peacefully in so many years. _Or is it fight club with Isamu and Keith._

* * *

 

Isamu threatened to shift the day of the fight club, it was to be consistently on a Sunday, "so that if you even think of going to that support group on a Saturday, sunday would be the day I get to baptize you. You made your word already". Turns out Isamu sees so much potential in Lance that he would shift the date to witness growth.

He sat in his cubicle, not hogwashing everyone with his goofy nature. He still had his signature sense of humor, but he wasn't very talkative, he's laid back and dismissed everything that could upset him. Lance had to vacate from Keith's room soon, he didn't want to be a burden on those two. **Lance had to choose. He certainly wanted to visit the comforting support group. But what about Keith?**.

A few days had passed, Shiro untroubled by the guest, they got along very easily. Keith, searching for a new job before Shiro finds out that he punched his boss. Everytime he went back to that house, someone would be waiting for him, Keith, so that they could watch Stargate together. Lance had not felt that in a very long time. 

They relaxed on the couch, Keith hugging a pillow and Lance stretched his legs the furthest. They sat close. Earth's Stargate went missing after it was beamed away, the team made for an investigation. In the middle of the episode,  Keith asks, "aren't you supposed to find a girl to get married to by now?"

Lance's mom keeps asking him that. How was he going to tell his mother that he broke up with a girl she admired and found suitable? No, he says.

Keith asks him if there's anyone on his mind, Lance says no. But is there anyone in his heart? _I think so._

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He finally gets the courage to take Keith to a movie, things escalate from there. He meets Allura. She is a kind but _no bullshit_ type of woman, and he begins to antagonize her. Eventually after connecting with her, she helps him confront his feelings for keith. But fight club back tracks him.


End file.
